Harry Dracul
by DZ2
Summary: Vladimir Dracula was the pro-human, vampire Chosen One, but this isn't that fairy-tale. This is the true story of the Heir of Count Dracula and his family: Harry James Potter. Dark Superpowerful-Vampire Harry
1. A Stupid Mistake

Harry Dracul: A Harry Potter/Young Dracula Crossover Fanfiction

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own Young Dracula or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to Michael Lawrence, Josephine Ward and the BBC. I do not own any other crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

**Plot:** Vladimir Dracula was the pro-human, vampire Chosen One, but this isn't that fairy-tale. This is the true story of the Heir of Count Dracula and his family: Harry James Potter.

**Author's Note: **So, this random, but fun-sounding idea just sort of came to me because of a few fan hates and wishes I have about the series in question – Young Dracula – and my own inspirations basically going nuts and then some. So, as a result, we have what I hope will be a fun adventure for you to enjoy as much as I plan on enjoying writing it up.

And, as always, if you don't like it, don't read it.

**WARNING: To any fellow fans of YD, especially those who are diehard lovers of the show, I should warn you that the characters are going to be OOC and the series canon is going to be AU in a lot of ways, including some obvious ones while, at the same time, the main character is going to be MUCH darker and more vampire than the show made him out to be, so, again, if this isn't for you, if you don't like it, don't read it.**

**Dedication: **I'd like to dedicate this story to my faithful friends and fans: my recommended reads are _The Chosen Two Saga – Chosen Two – Year One & Year Two, Chosen Two – Year Three & Year Four, Chosen Two – Year Five, Chosen Two – Year Six_ and _Chosen Two – Year Seven_ – by HeathenVampires, _A Normal Life_ by Unknownmusic, _Follow MY Footsteps_ by St3phP33l, _Path of the Chosen Ones: Year 1_ by JamesJW02, _Shadow Phoenix_ and _Twisted Fate_ by moonfeather58, _Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness_ by AngelSlayer135, _Harry Potter and the Darkness Within_ by DaggersBloodPain, _Damaged Raven_ and _Dark Lord Potter_ by JustBored21, _Dracula Rising_ by ZenoNoKyuubi, _Haemophilia (based on It's in the Blood by sakurademonalchemist) _and _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ by Quatermass, _Harbinger of Blood_ by Viscount Anarchy and _The Downward Spiral Saga_ – _Harry Potter and the Homecoming, Harry Potter and Salazar's Legacy, Harry Potter and the Year of Broken Chains, Harry Potter and the Return of the Lost, Harry Potter and the Dirge of Hope _and _Harry Potter and the End of War_ – by BolshevikMuppet99

**Key Pairings: **Harry/TBD

**Other Pairings: **To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'_Mental Speech_'

/_Parseltongue_/

Chapter 1: A Stupid Mistake

It was a mistake.

A stupid, careless, vulnerable mistake.

And now, things seemed to be getting much worse for Lily Potter nee Evans, or so she thought as she sat alone in the nursery, massaging her heavily-swollen stomach while tears of regret, pain and even defeat fell from her eyes. As darkness fell outside her window, Lily felt a twinge hit her stomach, accompanied by a soft, excitable-feeling kick that felt more like the kick from a mule against her womb, indicating a high level of strength within the child that currently existed inside of her.

A child that had been conceived by a mistake.

_**Dracul**_

And it had been a mistake.

All thanks to an act of magic, or perhaps just some unnatural, even supernatural power, which had grabbed Lily's attention and left her helpless to fight against the one who'd conceived her soon-to-be-born child. And, although she would only admit to herself that it was the biggest rush and the best date she'd _ever_ had since she'd graduated from Hogwarts, she still couldn't bring herself to feel anything, except guilt for what had come to her attention less than a month later.

A child.

A soon-to-be newborn baby, which had been picked up on by Healers' scans after Lily had reported feeling especially queasy, coupled with a strong, significant drain on her magic and a feeling of ominously-dark energy that never seemed to leave her.

All Lily could think was thank Merlin for patient-healer confidentiality oaths, which were just as powerful as Unforgivable Vows, because of how she had been forced to confess everything to the signs of non-human essence in her unborn child. When the Healer had learned of the truth of the little one's conception, they'd advised – read: insisted – on doing the one thing that no witch or wizard had ever really done without just cause.

Abortion.

And, admittedly, Lily had been prepared to go through the procedures, but then, somehow, James had found out she was pregnant and he acted like…well, like she expected he would act if and when she'd ever gotten the chance to give him the good news.

He spoiled her stupid, insisted on the finest, most-rewarding potions and care be given to her and his unborn child, he made plans for his dear friend and brother-in-all-but-blood, Sirius Black, to be put through the Godparents' Ritual to name his best friend the child's godfather.

He even told Lily, when she revealed she was having a baby boy, about a name he'd always wanted to call his son.

Harry _James_ Potter, in keeping with Potter Family traditions of having the Father's name as the Son's middle name and the same for the Mother if it had been a little girl.

Thanks to James' treatments and his plans and everything he had done for her and the child growing in her womb, Merlin forgive her, but Lily had once again been left unable to do anything that might ruin the moment. However, she _did_ make sure the Healer who treated her was absolutely certain that they couldn't tell another living soul about Lily's pregnancy or the truth of the child growing inside of her.

The last thing she needed was someone like Albus Dumbledore or, Magic help her, the Ministry getting wind of this.

_Especially_ when Lily considered who little Harry James _Potter's_ actual Father was…

_**Dracul**_

A few weeks later, Lily went into labour at sunset – which she found ironic, but she didn't say anything – and, for the next several hours, she felt like her body was being ravaged by a force of torture unbeknownst to any other human…well, anyone _male,_ anyway.

She screamed, begged and pleaded for her son to be all right; she listened while the Healer did their job and guided her through the labour and, even as she screamed from the labour pains and the agony of the dark forces ravaging her mind and body, Lily also felt a glimmer of amusement when she heard James' body hit the floor as he fainted from male shock at seeing his wife give birth.

Then, at exactly 11:59:59, almost _literally_ as the clock struck midnight, a beautiful song of a sound filled the room, accompanied by the soft voice of the Healer as she handed a blanket-wrapped bundle to Lily.

"Congratulations, Lady Potter; it's a _beautiful_ baby boy."

Through the waves of exhaustion, relief and maternal joy that assaulted her mind and heart, Lily saw the Healer was right about that; her little one _was_ beautiful. To look at him, with a slight pallor to his skin and a small, barely-formed sprinkling of black on his brow, he was a fallen angel made human, though Lily was more-entranced when she saw his eyes.

Green…_emerald_-green, at that, so much like her own, but with an air of something truly powerful.

As the Healer tried to rouse James, however, Lily saw a sign of just _how_ powerful her newborn son was, or had the potential to become, when his beautiful emerald-green eyes actually turned jet-black, sclera and all, before he giggled softly as he nuzzled his new Mummy.

By the time James was successfully-awoken, however, little Harry's eyes were green once again, leaving Lily half-shocked and half-disbelieving at what she had seen.

_**Dracul**_

For the next year, despite the traumas of the Magical World and the trials that they faced after their son's birth, Lily and James seemed to get back to whatever passed for normal, though Lily seemed to keep a very close eye on her little boy. She was always willing to be with him when he started crying in the night or whenever he grew fussy while she made absolutely-sure that everything was as nice and normal as it could be for her family.

This included using a little cunning to use some of James' blood, and a little adoption ritual she researched, to make sure that James' Potter Family Magic recognised Harry as his son and heir. Thankfully, James didn't seem to notice this, nor did he show any signs of suspecting that his _little buck,_ as he called Harry, was anything less than the future of his little gang of Marauders and the next generation of hellraisers at Hogwarts.

'If only you knew, James,' Lily often thought to herself.

_**Dracul**_

On Halloween Night, just three months after Harry turned one, Lily's life was turned upside-down when, after what seemed like a long time of safety measures and plans made and enforced by those whom she and James called friend and ally, the worst thing Lily could think of _finally_ happened.

Well, actually, she would have admitted that it was the joint-first-worst thing that could have happened, tied with James discovering the truth about Harry, since Lily couldn't bring herself to admit anything to him, not with all the paranoia, worry and dread that had started to cast dark clouds over their lives over the past year.

But then, on Halloween Night, the _other_ worst thing Lily could have imagined, happened when the Dark Lord Voldemort found them and, just as they had been warned, he came to try and kill Harry.

Why?

Lily didn't know, but she would be damned before she let him succeed.

And, as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures.

_**Dracul**_

"LILY! IT'S HIM! TAKE HARRY AND RUN!"

As soon as she heard James screaming for her to run, and take their son with her, Lily's protective instincts went into overdrive as she ran from her bedroom and, without stopping, she raced into the nursery, slamming the door hard before she cast the most-powerful locking charms she knew.

"Mama?"

Turning to face the voice that addressed her, Lily's eyes widened when she saw her beautiful boy's green eyes looking up at her in fear and curiosity, his infantile mind unable to comprehend exactly what was going on while, at the same time, showing the same reaction any normal little boy might show when they saw Mummy sad.

Mummy was sad, so Harry felt sad.

Shushing the small whimpers that escaped him as he saw her sadness, and sensed it as though it was his own, Lily crouched in front of her son's crib before she whispered, "It's all right, sweetheart…Mummy's here…oh, Harry…I'm _so_ sorry…"

Extending a hand to him, Lily smiled weakly, even as she wept tears of amusement and sorrowful pain when she saw his tiny hands clasp her hand in his grip, his green eyes still on her as Lily whispered, "My beautiful boy…my special little guy…if you only knew how _really_ special you were…"

"Mama cwy?" asked the infant, earning a soft laugh from Lily as she leaned forwards and kissed Harry's forehead, shushing him again.

"It's okay to cry sometimes, baby," whispered Lily, gently prying her hand from his as she added, "Oh Harry…no matter what happens, never forget, you are loved…_so_ loved…Harry, Mama loves you…Dada loves you…Harry, be safe, be strong and know you are loved…"

A loud crash stopped Lily from saying anything, though, as she heard the crash, her eyes widened when she saw Harry's eyes flash _black_ for a brief moment, accompanied by a dark look that crossed her child's face, as though the other side of him was coming out because his Mummy looked so sad, so scared and so unhappy around him.

However, when she saw the eyes, Lily's own eyes widened as a jolt of inspiration struck her.

An idea.

A crazy, stupid and possibly-dangerous idea suddenly rose up in her, fuelled by her desire to protect her little one as he looked at her with those odd, scary-looking eyes.

Thinking quickly, before she had a chance to actually change her mind, Lily drew her wand and cast a mild Cutting Hex on her palm, shedding her blood before, handing her bleeding hand to her little boy, Lily whispered, "Here baby…drink…come on, you can do it…drink from Mummy, just like when we have num-nums…"

To Lily's surprise, as well as her hope and delight, instinct, or perhaps the hunger of a toddler hearing that it was, apparently, time for eats, took over Harry as he leaned in and, to her delight, he began supping from the wound. His small lips wrapped around the wound, suckling on her skin and the blood from the wound as though it was her breast offering him milk.

As she felt the blood pass from her to him, Lily closed her eyes as she made a silent prayer;

'_Please…I'm begging you…come and help protect your son and heir!_'

_**Dracul**_

'…_protect your son and heir!'_

In a darkened castle many, _many_ miles away from where Lily was going through her Last Resort to try and protect her child, a pair of darker-than-dark eyes snapped open as a psychically-driven mental plea crossed his mind. As it did so, the recipient of the plea let out a dark hiss as he rose up from an ornate, throne-like chair before, without so much as an explanation to anyone else, he sped away from the throne room faster than a human could blink.

A rumble of thunder and a feeling of impending darkness seemed to follow him all the way to his destination.

_**Dracul**_

"_Not Harry, take me instead!"_

That was the last thing Lily Potter would _ever_ say before her life was stolen away by the Killing Curse, though her voice's final scream would forever resonate in the ears of the only other innocent in the room.

Namely the emerald-eyed baby with red-stained lips who looked up at a pair of blood-red eyes, the owner of which sneered at him as he lifted his wand before he hissed, "Such a tragic waste…but only _I_ can live forever…goodbye, Harry Potter…"

With that, the green flash of the Killing Curse flew from the stranger's wand, its deadly light reflected in the green colouring of the infant as he stared up at the flash of light before, to the horror of the caster, aka the Dark Lord Voldemort, green became _black_ as the child let out a cold, seething hiss that seemed to resonate with dark power, even as the curse's magic suddenly _froze_ in mid-air, crackling and sparking like lightning before, to the alarm of the Dark Lord, the Avada Kedavra's magic seemed to shrink down.

Seconds later, it exploded with the force of a nuclear bomb, obliterating the Dark Lord's body and taking most of the house with it as well.

As for little Harry, he _would_ have been caught in the blast himself were it not for the sudden burst of motion and speed that reached him _just_ as the explosion tore through the nursery.

While the house, and most of the street, was left in ruins, someways from the house, a pale, handsome figure dressed in a blood-red coat and dark clothes rose up with a coughing gasp before he looked down at the infant in his arms.

When the infant looked back up at him with two black orbs for eyes, the stranger gasped before he asked, "Morningstar's Curse: how…how did I not know? Could it be because she was magical? Did she intentionally keep you from me, my precious child?"

"Dada."

Suddenly, the man's eyes widened as he let out a cold, rumbling laugh as he asked, "You _know_ me as what I am…my, you are such a brilliant, bright-minded soul, my son and heir! Yes…she wanted me to protect you? Well I shall…hmm…I suppose I will have to name you, won't I?"

It took only a moment for the man to make up his mind.

"From this day forth, your name is Vladimir Dracula, Heir to the Dracula Throne and the future Prince of Darkness; now come, my son: it's time we were going home."

Seconds later, both the stranger, a man known only as Count Dracula, and his son and heir vanished with a sound akin to a sharp whoosh of air.

Leaving an unsuspecting world nonethewiser as to how it would be nearly ten years before such power was seen on their shores ever again.

**So, the adventure begins and, while this chapter might be kind of odd-sounding, trust me, it took some effort to get it just right: anyway, with Harry/Vladimir now taken to be raised by his…his **_**real**_** Father, the question is: what will he become?**

**Also, if and when the time comes for the big comeback, how will those who may think he's gone react to the truth, especially when they see what he has become and who he **_**really**_** is the son and heir of?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out**

**Next Chapter: Time passes and, thanks to another stupid mistake, it's time to leave home…or is that return home?**

**Please Read and Review**


	2. Son of the Dragon, Heir of the Devil

Harry Dracul

**Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Dedication: **I'd like to dedicate this story to my fans: my recommended reads are _The Chosen Two Saga _by HeathenVampires, _A Normal Life_ by Unknownmusic, _Follow MY Footsteps_ by St3phP33l, _Path of the Chosen Ones: Year 1_ by JamesJW02, _Shadow Phoenix_ and _Twisted Fate_ by moonfeather58, _Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness_ by AngelSlayer135, _Harry Potter and the Darkness Within_ by DaggersBloodPain, _Damaged Raven_ and _Dark Lord Potter_ by JustBored21, _Dracula Rising_ by ZenoNoKyuubi, _Haemophilia (based on It's in the Blood by sakurademonalchemist) _and _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ by Quatermass, _Harbinger of Blood_ by Viscount Anarchy and _The Downward Spiral Saga_ by BolshevikMuppet99

**Key Pairings: **Harry/TBD

**Other Pairings: **To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'_Mental Speech_'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**Jostanos: Sometimes, my friend, you have some crazy ideas that just grab at my attention and refuse to let go…and **_**this**_** is one of those times, so thank you**

**Vampireking40: Interesting thoughts, though probably **_**not**_** what I'll do: keep reading to find out**

**JustBored21: Is that so? Well then, I hope you enjoy what else is to come**

_**Dracul**_

**ALSO:**

**As you'll see from this chapter, the winner of my poll was to have him sorted as Dracula and not as Harry, so, for the rest of this story, Harry is going to be written as Vlad/Vladimir**

**(Oh, and it's also still going to be Daniel Radcliffe and not Gerran Howell, just in case anyone was wondering…)**

"_From this day forth, your name is Vladimir Dracula, Heir to the Dracula Throne and the future Prince of Darkness; now come, my son: it's time we were going home."_

_Seconds later, both the stranger, a man known only as Count Dracula, and his son and heir vanished with a sound akin to a sharp whoosh of air._

_Leaving an unsuspecting world nonethewiser as to how it would be nearly ten years before such power was seen on their shores ever again._

Chapter 2: Son of the Dragon, Heir of the Devil

Ten years.

Well, if he was being specific, it was more like nine-and-a-bit – nine years and four months, to be exact – since the child formerly known as Harry James Potter was last seen on British shores.

However, now, he was back, all thanks to his Father's instinct to defend him and protect his own, as well as a piss-poor attempt to frighten and wipe out the Draculas on the part of a band of breathers whom were about as frightening as fleas on a wolf's back. Of course, the fact that this particular breather bunch had also sent word to the Slayers' Guild to come and help them end the Dracula Line for good was another reason – and, no matter what his stake-up-her-own-ass vulture of an adoptive-maternal grandmother might say, it was a good, just and honourable one too – to get the hell out of Transylvania while there was still a Dracula Line to protect.

Which brought him to the other thing he thought to himself, even as they passed onto British shores.

The fact that he might have left them as weak, innocent, little baby Harry James Potter, but he was returning as the bright, brave, strong and _very_ changed Vladimir Draconis Dracula, Heir of the Dracula Clan, Vampire-in-Training and all-round bad egg with no real love lost for the Brits.

Well, except as the thought of using them as dinner ingredients, of course.

Having needed to find new accommodations as soon as possible, Vladimir – or _Vlad,_ as he was known for short – had looked for the simplest, cheapest and easiest – meaning quickest – to buy on such short notice and, after fifteen minutes' searching, he'd found it.

A castle.

For immediate sale and instant move-in, located in the small, quiet British town of _Stokely._

So, thanks to the breathers, his Father's desire to protect the family and a few arguments with the elders, Vladimir Dracula was _back!_

Pity the poor breathers…_not!_

_**Dracul**_

"I'm sure we should have turned right back there."

"Don't blame _me,_ blame this maggot-infested imbecile at the wheel."

"I _was,_" argued Vlad, smirking in a sense of personal amusement, which was shared by his elder sister – well, half-sister, but she'd always treated him as though they were full-blood kin – Ingrid Magda Dracula, as she shared in his disdain for the fact that, even though they'd been in the UK for nearly half-a-night and most of the morning now, they were still no closer to their new home.

Add in the fact they'd found their way to Stokely, only to end up lost in such a small, bland-looking environment, not to mention the fact that it had been nearly two days since _any_ of the Draculas had so much as sampled blood and it was safe to say tempers, and emotions, were running high.

As Vlad scowled while he looked to the window of their hearse for what seemed like the twentieth time that hour, Ingrid scoffed next to him as she asked, "Why can't you read a simple _map,_ you pus-for-brains? You're supposed to know your way around like the back of your hand, or is that as much a mystery to you as what's filling the space between your ears?"

"Please be quiet, Mistress Ingrid," insisted the driver, a disgusting, wart-and-boil-infested mosaic of a man named Renfield, whom was nothing more than a servant to the Draculas, but liked to delude himself into thinking he was more than that. "Also, in case it escaped your attention, Miss, I _am_ trying to read the Map and follow the instructions that Master Vlad found for me."

"Don't blame Vlad," argued Ingrid, earning a faint smirk from the Dracula Heir as she told Renfield, "He made those instructions perfectly-clear: a blind werewolf could have followed them easier."

"All right, just turn right, and keep it down: Dad's asleep," retorted Vlad, quickly looking over his shoulder while he added, "And thanks to us being short on chances to stop for blood since that near-miss on the outskirts of Paris, I certainly wouldn't want to risk him waking up during the _day! _It's bad enough _I_ have to be awake during the day, just so I can make sure you two don't kill each other."

"And because Dad wants you to be used to it before the breather-magi come looking for you in a couple of months' time," replied Ingrid, earning a nod of agreement from Vlad as she told him, "Just be thankful you don't burst into flames or dust like Dad would, Vlad…and for Darkness' sake, Renfield: didn't you hear him? Turn _right,_ you insect-biting ignoramus!"

"I _know!_" snapped Renfield, though when he jerked on the steering wheel, the force of the sudden turn caused Vlad to slam into Ingrid, which, regretfully, caused Ingrid to slam into Renfield as they drove up a sloping street that seemed to climb a hill in the town.

At the same time, while Vlad and Ingrid composed themselves, Renfield sneered as he asked, "There: is _that_ what you meant, Miss? I turned right, just like you said and _look._ Just like I knew it was, there's the castle up ahead, so eat that, you spoilt little…"

"_RENFIELD!_"

"Now you've done it," muttered Vlad, just as Renfield slammed on the brakes, bringing the hearse to a dead stop while, at the same time, Vlad rubbed the bridge of his nose as he felt the curtain behind him shift.

Barely a second later, a pale-skinned, dark-haired man with a cold, unforgivingly-harsh stare poked his way through the curtains, scowling more at the dirty man in the driver's seat rather than his children as he asked, "_What_ is going on? What did you think you were doing knocking me out of my coffin like that, you disgustingly-useless halfwit?"

"S-S-S-Sorry…for disturbing you…M-M-M-Master," stammered Renfield, all bravado and confidence gone as soon as the man, the notorious Count Dracula himself, poked his head out and addressed his servant.

"_Silence!_"

"Sorry about the knock, Dad," added Vlad, earning a curious, but less-stern and _certainly_-the-opposite-of-harsh look from the Count as he indicated Renfield before he added, "_Someone_ thought it'd be funny to try and leave Ingrid and I looking like we had egg on our faces."

"Are you hurt?" asked the Count, earning a faint smile from his son and heir.

"Only thanks to the painful feelings of my stomach growling; it feels like a real dragon's trying to burst out of there like in that sci-fi film we watched last Halloween," said Vlad, earning a faint smile from the Count while even Ingrid leaned over and gently massaged her little brother's stomach, which did indeed rumble like the roar of the dragon that took up part of the Dracula name, Coat of Arms and even Vlad's middle name.

"If the coffin weren't mounted on our blood casks, I'd gladly let you have some, Vladdy," insisted the Count, earning a weak smile from Vlad, even as he went on, "Unfortunately, our near-miss with the French Slayers _and_ this pathetic wart-sack's worthless sense of direction or importance leave little time for a snack. So, just hold on until we get to this new home of ours and you can have all the blood you can drink, all right?"

"I wish I could have it from the vein," drawled Vlad, earning a soft moan of longing and mutual agreement from the Count.

"So do I, my son, so do I…now, Renfield…_drive!_"

_**Dracul**_

Even as the Draculas drove on towards their new home, however, none of them, not even the Count himself, were aware of the bright, wide pair of eyes watching them from a darkly-decorated upstairs window in the house that their hearse had stopped outside of.

Nor were they aware, not even Vlad, of how the owner of the eyes would become a key player in their lives in due course.

_**Dracul**_

"Home, sweet home…oh, look: cobwebs and mould…and nice torch brackets: not quite the gold veneer effect, but it already feels like we're back at our real home in Transylvania."

"I'll be the judge of…_ow!_ Be careful, you filthy pestilent toadstool!" snapped the Count, his voice coming from within his closed casket, though his ire came from the fact that Renfield accidentally dropped it so it was lying horizontally on the floor.

As Vlad and Ingrid opened their Father's casket, the Count rose up with an almost supernatural effect, which caused him to rise up and glide out of the coffin before he landed on the floor with an audible, resonating thud. The force of the thud, or perhaps even the Count's dark power, was _so_ intense, it caused a wave of dust and cloud to kick up when he landed, which spread its way through the castle like a ghost making itself at home.

As the Count looked around the main hall of his new castle, he hummed thoughtfully as he drawled, "Yes…I suppose it will do: it could use a few rotting corpses and skulls, but we can accessorise later. Well done, Vlad: now, I believe someone mentioned something about a blood feast?"

"_Finally,_" moaned Vlad, massaging his stomach even as he looked to Ingrid before he asked, "I know your thirst isn't as strong as mine and Dad's yet, Ingrid, but, still…feel like joining us?"

"I'll have a couple of glasses," agreed Ingrid, though, when the Draculas turned to the door, the Count's eyes widened with outrage and indignation when he saw Renfield just standing there, not even bothering to take the hint.

"_Well?_" roared the Count, his voice resonating through the halls as it usually did whenever he got angry, "What are you waiting for, you worm? A personal telegram? Fetch our supplies in and open up three bottles of the finest we have: nothing but the best to unchristen our new home."

While Renfield scurried away like the ratty nothing he was – at least, as far as the Draculas were concerned – the Count looked back to his children as he asked, "Now, while we wait for that dust-bunny-brained imbecile to fetch our dinner, have you two settled the argument of who gets the tower room in this new home of ours?"

"Vlad," said Ingrid, earning a surprised look from her younger brother, the sight of which made the daughter of Dracula smile as she shook her head before she told him, "No arguments, little brother: I'm going to come of age three years before you do, so, just like you need to get used to sleeping at night again, so too should I get used to being away from the sunlight and adjusting to the darkness. Besides, having your room up in the tower means you have your own space should anything magical bother you _and_ you're able to let your troubles go out of the window and plummet to their deaths at the bottom."

"How…charitable of you, Ingrid," drawled the Count, earning a small laugh from Vlad, even as Renfield returned with their cases and the blood that all three had waited long enough to have.

_**Dracul**_

Unlike the Count's favourable attitude with his son and heir, and the protective air he often showed around Vlad, it had actually taken some years, and a little convincing on Vlad's part, for the Count to let go of the archaic, sexist thoughts of the vampire clans of old and accept that Ingrid was not only his older child, but also that she was someone Vlad himself looked up to and learned from, as she taught him all about the ways, customs and even powers of the vampire he would one day become – even though, unlike her, he still had a little less than six years before he would come of age and ascend to full vampirism.

It helped that Ingrid also treated Vlad with more respect than the Count had expected, given the circumstances of his birth and the things that made him different from her.

So, while the Count _might_ have sounded sarcastic when he commented on Ingrid's response to the tower-room dilemma, Vlad knew he meant it.

And, thankfully, so did Ingrid.

_**Dracul**_

As Vlad drained the last drops from the bottle provided by Renfield, he licked his lips and patted his stomach while, in the dark light of the castle, his usually-cold, supernaturally-bright green eyes turned jet-black as he growled, "Ahh…_much_ better; still not as good as from the vein, but it'll do."

"Hear, hear," agreed the Count, even as Ingrid drained her own glass – or rather, her fourth glass – before the Count looked to the castle's interior as he added, "Well, I leave it to you two to make sure that overcompensating fool decides to empty the wax from his ears and use what little brains he has long enough to get our home into some order. Vladdy, you may also go and make yourself at home in your new room…and Ingrid; I believe I saw a second, slightly-lower tower room on the opposite side of the castle, so why don't you go and check that one out?"

"Thanks Dad," laughed Ingrid, earning a smile from Vlad as he saw more evidence of the family he had become part of being closer than ever.

_**Dracul**_

After deciding not to leave his possessions in Renfield's case, Vlad instead chose to take charge and responsibility of his own cases as he carried them up to the highest room of the tallest tower.

When he got to the room, however, Vlad couldn't help but smile when he noticed how someone else was already there.

Or rather…some_thing_ else.

It was a wolf; a sleek, strong-looking grey wolf with bright, fierce amber eyes and a real shaggy-dog sort of look about him, thanks to the rough trial of the long journey from Transylvania. The wolf was sat next to the window, looking out over the scene of the town below while, to Vlad's relief, he had a half-full bowl of raw meat that looked half-chewed and savagely-devoured.

"I wondered if you'd be all right too, Zoltan," said Vlad, walking over to the wolf where he scratched his friend between his ears, earning a content whine from the beast as he leaned into the touch.

"No thanks to Renfield's incompetence, Master Vlad," argued the wolf, _actually_ speaking aloud, in a voice edged by the Transylvanian/Slavic lilt that was a constant reminder of his homeland for the future Prince of Darkness. "Fortunately, while the Count was threatening his manhood, and you were _actually_ contemplating asking your Father to rip the ingrate open, so you could drain him dry personally, I went hunting and found enough to tide me over."

"That's good," agreed Vlad, sitting on the sill in his window as he explained, "When the sun sets, we'll go hunting: both of us. I'll see if I can take down a fat cow or two for me and Dad to have. It should tide us over until we get a better idea of what sort of _breathers_ live in this dreary place; I mean, look at it, Zoltan. It's so dull, quaint and _normal,_ it makes facing the mob back in Transylvania seem like a weekend in Vegas."

"At least it gives you a safe haven until the magi come after you, Master Vlad," argued Zoltan, earning a scoff from Vlad as he nodded.

"Good point, I suppose, which reminds me; even when they _do_ come for me, I expect you to stay by my side as you have done since I was a baby."

"Your Father bound me to you as your Blood Familiar, Master," retorted Zoltan, earning a small, but genuine smile from Vlad as he explained, "No matter what their rules or the ideas of such things may be, I _am_ going to stay by your side, no matter what. We share more than just strength and mystic energies, after all."

"I know," agreed Vlad, moving away from the window as he sagged down onto his bed with an audible sigh.

As Zoltan moved to lay his head next to his master, Vlad gently petted his faithful friend as he asked, "Zoltan, be honest: do you think I can handle being both the Son and Heir of Count Dracula _and_ a wizard, especially with what Dad told me about the rumours that came out of this country about the person I _used_ to be?"

"I believe the same thing I have always believed, young dragon," said Zoltan, rubbing his head against Vlad's hand in an affectionate manner as he went on. "You have it within you to be whatever you _choose_ to be, whether that is your Father's successor or a truly-powerful addition to the long, and long-since-believed forgotten power and legacy of Death Mages, or _Vampire Sorcerers,_ as they used to be called."

While Vlad smiled in response to Zoltan's ever-wise counsel, the wolf let out a low whine and a snort before he continued, "And, to help you, we now know this world believes the boy you used to be, the breather-magi child known as Harry Potter, is _dead,_ so, thanks to their naivety and your Father's explorations into the ways to keep you out of their sights, they will not expect Vladimir Dracula to be anything less than someone to be observed because of the vampirism in you."

"Thanks Zoltan," agreed Vlad, tickling Zoltan behind one ear as he added, "You _always_ know what to…"

Suddenly, whatever else Vlad might have said was cut off when a loud thud came from his bedroom window, accompanied by what _looked_ like a metal hook of some sort, like the kind one might use for abseiling or high-climbing.

"Look, Master Vlad."

Shushing Zoltan, Vlad lifted himself from his bed and made his way to the bedroom window.

Looking down to see where the hook and rope had come from, the Dracula Heir frowned when he saw a truly-alarming, but also-curious sight.

A boy, dressed all in black, with dark hair on his head and an air of exhaustion that turned into a look of alarm as he looked up and saw Vlad staring down at him with a bemused expression.

Letting out a cry of alarm, the boy slipped and fell, though not before Vlad reached down and grabbed him with one hand, holding him in mid-air while he smiled cruelly as he addressed his mysterious window-visitor. "So, do you want to just go ahead and tell me what you're doing up here or should I just go ahead and let you fall to your death?"

"No, _please!_" cried the boy, earning a raised eyebrow from Vlad as he explained, "I'm sorry: I just…I saw your hearse arriving and…and I saw you were moving up…up here to the castle and I…I was interested."

"And…what? You couldn't have knocked first or rung the doorbell?" asked Vlad, sarcasm evident in his voice as he asked, "What? Have you never heard of manners or something?"

As he scoffed in amusement, however, Vlad's attention snapped back to the boy in mortal peril when the frightened youth let out a cry that grabbed onto Vlad's attention just as firmly as the hook he'd used to climb up the castle's walls. "I didn't want to risk you drinking my blood!"

Before the frightened boy could say anything else, Vlad lifted him up with alarming strength – well, alarming for anyone who didn't know who Vlad was – before he let the boy fall onto his bedroom floor, kicking the hook off of his window as he looked to his visitor. "Who are you?"

"R-R-Robin…Robin Branagh," replied the boy, coughing hard as he looked up to Vlad as he went on, "And…and you don't have to worry: I won't tell anyone that you're vampires. I just…I _had_ to be sure and…and I needed to see if you…if you were real or…or just some sort of eccentric weirdo like everyone else will think you are."

"And…you knew I was a vampire…how?" asked Vlad, folding his arms while he also smirked when the boy, Robin, paled as Zoltan started growling threateningly at him, warning him off even as Vlad added, "Now, now, Zoltan, play nicely: I know you're hungry, but please be civil for now: he _is_ a guest in our home, after all."

"As you wish, Master Vlad," agreed Zoltan, though his voice remained edged by his predatory growl as he told Robin, "But listen well, _breather:_ if you mean any harm to my Master, I _will_ turn you into waste for my basket, understand?"

"Yes sir," said Robin, looking back to Vlad as he added, "And I…I knew you were vampires because I…well, I can't explain it except to say I've got a sort of sixth sense about these things. Like I…I _know_ when someone's not quite what they appear to be, you know?"

"Interesting," agreed Vlad, tapping a finger against his chin before he added, "But that still doesn't excuse you doing this: I mean, for one thing, it's rude to just barge in uninvited and, for another thing, we _are_ vampires, Robin, so what's stopping me from biting you and killing you here and now?"

"You can if you want," said Robin, earning a surprised look from Vlad, even as the dark-haired boy bore his throat to the young vampire, who could only stare as he watched this breather submit to him.

As Robin stayed where he was, however, Vlad's eyes narrowed when a faint scent tickled his nostrils: one that, while he was not yet a _full_ vampire, still triggered the dark spawn inside of him as he smelled something he'd been taught to recognise from a young age by his Father and even by his elder sister.

Before Robin could say anything, he found himself pinned to the wall, looking into a pair of jet-black eyes and a snarling, but fangless face as the Son and Heir of Count Dracula snarled at him.

"I know that blood's scent…_you're a wizard, Robin Branagh!_"

**Chapter 2 and, uh oh, talk about another twist of fate: the gothic, vampire-obsessed annoyance that was canon-Vlad's friend is actually a wizard **_**and**_** now finds himself more-likely to be Vlad's dinner…but will anything save him?**

**Also, if a wizard lives in Stokely, what else lies in wait for the Son and Heir of Dracula and his family?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out**

**Next Chapter: Robin fills in a few blanks, prompting Vlad to do the same, but when he's reminded of the more-surprising side of his room's intruder, the future Prince of Darkness makes a choice…and an offer for the other wizard in the Dracula Clan's midst;**

**Please Read and Review**


	3. Covenant of Blood

Harry Dracul

**Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Dedication: **I'd like to dedicate this story to my fans: my recommended reads are _The Chosen Two Saga _by HeathenVampires, _A Normal Life_ by Unknownmusic, _Follow MY Footsteps_ by St3phP33l, _Path of the Chosen Ones: Year 1_ by JamesJW02, _Shadow Phoenix_ and _Twisted Fate_ by moonfeather58, _Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness_ by AngelSlayer135, _Harry Potter and the Darkness Within_ by DaggersBloodPain, _Damaged Raven_ and _Dark Lord Potter_ by JustBored21, _Dracula Rising_ by ZenoNoKyuubi, _Haemophilia (based on It's in the Blood by sakurademonalchemist) _and _On the Delights of Drinking Blood_ by Quatermass, _Harbinger of Blood_ by Viscount Anarchy and _The Downward Spiral Saga_ by BolshevikMuppet99

**Key Pairings: **Harry/TBD

**Other Pairings: **To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'_Mental Speech_'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**AvidReader2425: Oh, don't worry: I definitely don't plan on 'Twilighting' Vlad like the series tried to do**

**JustBored21: I appreciate your feedback, friend: hope you enjoy this chapter**

_Before Robin could say anything, he found himself pinned to the wall, looking into a pair of jet-black eyes and a snarling, but fangless face as the Son and Heir of Count Dracula snarled at him._

"_I know that blood's scent…you're a wizard, Robin Branagh!"_

Chapter 3: Covenant of Blood

For what seemed like an eternity and then some, Vlad kept his black eyes fixed on Robin, who could only gasp and choke against the supernatural strength of the young vampire who held him up. At the same time, Zoltan snarled at the revelation that this rude intruder into his master's domain was one of the very people who, apparently, couldn't even wait one day before bothering the Dracula Heir.

And yet, even Vlad was surprised to notice Robin didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry to beg for mercy, let alone show a reason to stop Vlad or Zoltan ripping him apart.

Instead, the desperate breather looked down at Vlad as he gasped, "G…G…Go on, then: kill me! Trust me, nobody…no-one'll miss me!"

"Oh, you actually think _killing_ you is the worst thing I can do?" sneered Harry, shaking his head slowly as he growled, "No, _breather-_magi; death should be a release, not a punishment…"

To Robin's surprise, Vlad seemed to emphasise his dark point as he dropped the now-pale Robin onto the ground, leaving the dark-dressed boy looking up at him, just like how Renfield was often forced to look up to the Count whenever he was being punished or scolded. At the same time, Vlad's eyes turned green again as he smirked thinly before he folded his arms in a dominant, powerful gesture while he stared down at the human cowering before him.

"But, I admit it: it's interesting to meet a breather who _wants_ to die, especially when they're my age, which begs the question…_why?_"

"Because," replied Robin, rubbing at his neck as he gasped out, "I…I'm not even part of that family; they…they just think I'm weird or, in my stupid sister's case, something to be studied like a lab rat. So…so I let myself get…get lost in darkness and…and liking things that go bump in the night. I don't _fear_ the dark, or…or the thought of dying. And, like I said, when…when I sensed you and your…your family, I…I _knew_…well, I hoped I'd found a way to…to escape them, even for only a little while or…or if you killed and ate me."

"Killed, maybe, but not _eat,_" drawled Vlad, scoffing in amusement as he turned away from Robin and stared out of his tower-room window as he sneered, "I mean, I'd drink your blood if I could and not waste a drop, but nothing else: I'm a _vampire,_ Robin Branagh, not some fleabag werewolf, no offence, Zoltan."

"None taken, Master Vlad," replied Zoltan, knowing his master meant the less-wolf, more-human-possessed mutants whom Zoltan had shared a little of his DNA with – namely the wolf part.

"What…what do you mean if you could?" asked Robin, looking from Vlad to the view beyond as he asked, "Hang on, it's still daylight out: how come you're not bursting into flames or disintegrating to ashes?"

"I'm what you might call a _half_-vampire," replied Vlad, a part of him knowing he _probably_ shouldn't be telling this breather anything, but if he tried to run, Vlad could catch him and leave him as a new-home-supper for the Count, so he wasn't too worried, even as he continued addressing the little blood bag behind him.

"Until I turn sixteen, I can survive sunlight, be seen in mirrors and, regrettably, I don't have fangs or clawed nails like most full-vampires; however, unlike most other half-vampires, I have a slight advantage that comes from the fact that, like you, I'm also a magical being. A wizarding vampire, or Death Mage, as they used to be called, which means I have _some_ of my vampire powers, as well as the thirst for blood, and a small portion of the strength and speed that can be strong or weak depending on how hungry I am."

Here, Vlad smiled as he turned to Robin, who wore a look of shock, as he went on, "And, even when I ascend to full vampire status, I'll still be able to walk outside in sunlight and, apparently, I'll even have a few powers inside of me that normal vampires won't, even those who are as old as my Dad and even older. So, in case you're wondering, this is why I can't rip your throat out and drain you…well, not with my fangs or nails, anyway."

"Wow," whispered Robin, swallowing hard as he asked, "But…but you _do_ drink blood?"

"Yep."

"Human?"

"Duh!" sneered Vlad, earning a nod from Robin, even as Vlad went on, "But before you get any ideas, Robin, I've already drunk my fill today, so don't think I can feed on you anyway, because if there's one thing I hate doing, it's ruining my appetite…I leave _that_ right to Renfield's cooking."

To Vlad's amusement, Robin laughed at his dry remark, even as the young vampire continued, "So, you say your _sister_ experiments on you?"

"She's as much a nightmare as the rest of them," said Robin, rubbing his neck again as he went on, "When…when I first used magic, she tried debunking it…you know: proving it doesn't exist and that I couldn't have made it happen? But then, in my anger at her snobbish desire to know everything, which is even worse because she's _younger_ than me, but, apparently, a child genius; anyway, when I got angry, I made her science kit blow up, leaving a bad cut on her face and nearly costing her the ability to see with both eyes."

"I don't like _nearly,_" drawled Vlad, earning another snigger from Robin.

"Really? I found it quite funny, especially when she was actually trying to tell me to make it right, as if I knew _how._"

"Accidental Magic has that downside," agreed Vlad, earning a curious look from Robin that prompted the vampire boy to explain his point, "When wizards, even Death Mages like me, get angry or scared during our younger years, our magic has a bad tendency to come out and have some fun with the world around us. Sometimes, it can be a small thing like something flying across the room or the temperature changing, but, at other times, like your sister, it can be violent, memorable and funny, if not disappointing because she can clearly still see."

"Yeah, but that didn't stop her trying to figure me out," said Robin, earning a pitying look from Vlad that was only because he was a wizard, not a breather, even as the other boy continued, "She was basically trying to get me to use my magic just so she could study it and, when she wasn't doing that, she was leaving notes and even cameras around."

"So…do you want me to introduce her to Dad, maybe? Or even Zoltan?" asked Vlad, earning a loud, barking laugh from Robin.

"As far as I'm concerned, Vlad, you can introduce the whole lot of them to your family!"

"So, Mum, Dad and…siblings? All as bad as Little Miss Insufferable-Know-It-All?"

"Got it in one," said Robin, moving to sit on the end of Vlad's bed, even as he continued his response, "I don't know why, but Dad never really pays attention to me, unless Chloe, Ian or Paul are making up lies and complaining about me being…well, me. Otherwise, he's avoiding me like I've got the plague and, when it was revealed by Chloe that I _had_ magic, he basically shut me out, all but disowning any knowledge of me and leaving me to deal with _her_ myself. All the while, Ian and Paul treat me like the butt of their every joke and love spreading rumours about my liking for darkness _and_ encouraging Chloe to keep looking into me; they even said about finding a _cure_ for my weirdness."

"And again, I find myself offering you the chance to let me kill them," drawled Vlad, earning a cold smile from Robin.

"Believe me, I wouldn't even _try_ to convince you to spare them, _especially_ not Mum; she looks at me like I'm some sort of poison on her and, even though she had _precious_ Chloe, her prodigy child who'll one day rule the world, she often claims I ruined her life and nearly cost Mum her marriage with _him!_ And when I tried talking about Chloe's experiments and how she was basically torturing me, Mum gave me this look, as though she was not only encouraging Chloe, but _helping_ her set me up, and she told me straight: _if you don't like it, you can leave…there's the door._"

"No wonder you're so willing to be vampire food," remarked Vlad, leaning against his window sill as he asked, "So, I'm guessing none of them know you've come up to the castle, then?"

"No, but they probably will do soon," replied Robin, earning a sneer from Vlad as he explained, "The rope and hooks I stole to get up here were meant to be part of a _family campout_ to celebrate Chloe getting on some Advanced Course that'll probably see her in Oxford or Cambridge by the time she starts bleeding from her…"

"I get it," agreed Vlad, though not before he laughed as he added, "So, the Deadbeat Dad, Misery-Loving Mum, Self-Delusional Sister and Bastard Brothers will be coming up here to see if we know anything about your location?"

"That and Elizabeth…sorry…I mean, _Mum_ will be putting on her airs and graces to get to know our new neighbours; trust me, if she doesn't make at least _one_ judgmental remark about you living here, I'll feed myself to your wolf alive!"

"Actually, Zoltan's a Hellhound, but I appreciate the wager nonetheless," chuckled Vlad, holding up a hand to silence Zoltan's hungry growls, even as he went on, "However, there is a much-simpler way you can deal with the disgusting breather brigade, if you're up for it."

"You mean you're not going to kill me?"

"Not _yet,_" sniggered Vlad, his eyes flashing black again as he beckoned Robin forwards with a single finger.

"Follow me…I'll explain on the way."

_**Dracul**_

To Vlad's surprise, by the time he'd dealt with his intruder, and then gone to lead Robin out of the tower and back into the main body of the castle, the Count was up and about, earning a surprised look from Robin while Vlad smiled with a mixture of amusement and relief when he saw his Father sat upon his throne, his eyes closed in meditation while an air of ominous, dark essence seemed to linger in the very air itself.

Nearby, an ornate fireplace was filled by low-burning, darkest-golden-coloured flames while, as Vlad looked around, he saw cobwebs being spun in the rafters while the windows themselves slowly darkened, thanks to a _very_ thick band of dark thunderclouds that seemed to cover the skies over the head of the castle.

"Direct sunlight hurts vampires more than daylight itself," explained Vlad, sensing Robin's urge to ask about what was happening, even as the vampire boy continued, "Dad's _not_ a Death Mage like me, but he _does_ have an exceptionally-powerful Dark Core, which is where all vampires draw their supernatural gifts from. Then again, he's not only over six hundred years old, he's also…"

"Count Dracula," finished Robin, earning a surprised look from Vlad while, in his throne, the Count's eyes snapped open and flashed blood-red, even as Robin indicated the spot behind the Count's throne, "I remember seeing the dragon crest in one of my books: I probably should have guessed it, mind you, given your name's Vladimir."

"And _**yours**_**,**" growled the Count suddenly, earning another surprised look from his son and heir, even as the dark master rose from his throne, his eyes fixed on Robin while his fangs were bared hungrily as he snarled, "Is apparently _**dinner,**_ breather-mage…"

"Dad, no!" insisted Vlad, spreading his arms wide in a bid to defend Robin.

However, when the Count looked to his son and heir, Vlad smiled wolfishly as he told Count Dracula, "I know how hungry for fresh blood you are, but you can't touch him because I _claim_ him: from this day forth, the breather-mage known as Robin Branagh is now _mine_ by the Ancient Laws of Blood-Branding!"

To Robin's disbelief, even with everything Vlad had explained about what he was going to ask of the elder vampire on his way down to the throne room, Count Dracula's bloodthirsty demeanour vanished as quickly as it had appeared; even his eyes returned to their normal, alluringly-dark colour, while the elder vampire smiled with a mixture of fatherly pride and curiosity as he asked, "You…you _claim_ him? But Vladdy, I thought you said you didn't want to go through claiming anyone until you started to go through your teenage years?"

"Well, he _is_ a wizard, like me, which means he'll be getting a letter soon, like me, and that might even mean he'll be going to the school, like me," said Vlad, shrugging at his Father's proud, but still-dumbfounded look, even as the young vampire asked, "Can you think of anyone better to be there by my side against the rest of these peace-and-light-loving breather-magi?"

"Perhaps," replied the Count.

"And besides," said Vlad, clasping Robin's shoulder as he explained, "He _did_ offer himself to me _and_ was even willing to let me kill him if I wanted to do it and, as much as I would like to ease your hunger and give him to you, Dad, I think I'd prefer it if anyone who offered themselves to me was bitten, marked and turned, if not killed, by _**me!**_"

To the Count's surprise, as well as Vlad's mild shock, the last word in Vlad's argument was edged by a bestial snarl of his own, which made the room darken that little bit more while an air of dark magic and pure evil seemed to lace Vlad's expression, earning a proud, booming laugh from the Count as he moved towards his son and heir.

Kneeling down as he reached Vlad, the Count clasped his son's shoulders as he asked, "Did you _hear_ that, Vladimir? Your voice started to break: oh, this is a grand day indeed! It means your powers are advancing much faster than we thought; why? You never know, my son and heir; you might even have the fortune of going through your Transformation before your sixteenth birthday!"

"Awesome," laughed Vlad, though not before he cleared his throat as he indicated Robin, "But we can talk about that later, Dad; for now…what do you say? Can I keep him?"

The Count hummed in response, even as he looked from Vlad to Robin as he asked, "Do you know what it is he is asking me to allow him to do with you, breather-mage?"

"I know it will, basically, make me his slave…his _pet,_ and nothing more than a light bite if he needs it," said Robin, though his voice was a little shaky, having witnessed his friend's power for himself in the presence of the elder, stronger and just-as-scary-looking vampire lord.

And yet, Robin didn't back down, even as he continued, "I know it's _so_ binding that the bond will only be broken when he turns me or he kills me, whichever comes first. I also know it'll basically put a leash around my neck that he can use to make me obey him, but, with all due respect, Count Dracula, sir…like he said, I was willing to give myself to him anyway; all this would be is like…um…putting the first collar on a new puppy…"

Then, to Vlad's amusement, Robin cocked his head to one side as he drawled, "So, all I have to say about that is…_woof-woof._"

Even as Vlad laughed in response to his new companion's willingness, the Count's dark laughter resonated through the throne room once again as he looked from Robin to Vlad before he added, "In that case, as the Lord of Clan Dracula, I give you permission and my approval to claim him, my son and heir…_**RENFIELD!**_"

Again, the room trembled as the Count roared like the dragon on his crest, earning several loud crashes from beyond the throne room as the dirty manservant hurried to obey his master's summons. "Yes Master?"

"First, don't take so long to respond next time, you pestilent toad-spawn," growled the Count, though not before he indicated Vlad and Robin as he added, "And second, fetch the Blood Branding Set: my son is about to make a _very_ special decision that cannot wait!"

To Vlad's amusement, knowing what he did about the pus-riddled freak of nature, Renfield scowled at the fact that it was Vlad who was going to make the choice and not the Count himself, whom Renfield had been trying, and failing, to convince for _years_ to give him The Bite. Now, here was Vlad with this newcomer breather and, within a day, he was already being Blood Branded.

As Renfield sulked and left, muttering under his breath, Vlad looked back to his Father as he added, "Also, as I'm claiming him, I want Robin to stay here in the castle; he'll share my room, but you _might_ have to go and hypnotise, or maybe capture, kidnap and slowly torture and make beg for death, the disgustingly-arrogant breathers he lives with!"

When the Count's eyes widened at his son's dark request, Vlad winked as he asked, "Come on, Dad: I promised you I'd find you someone to eat, remember? You just have to learn to ration the blood, so they're left begging for death…after all…you know my belief."

"Death should be a release, _not_ a punishment," agreed the Count, laughing in his dark way as he hugged Vlad close, the fatherly pride and warm, but dark sense of familial joy and love both awe-inspiring and a little awkward to witness as the Count exclaimed, "And _that_ is why you are _always_ going to be the greatest thing I have ever done in over six hundred years, Vladimir!"

"Ah," added Vlad, removing himself from his Father as he turned to Robin, who looked somewhere between alarmed and in an almost-limitless, immeasurably-potent state of gratitude and wonder, even as Vlad addressed him again. "And since I'm letting you live long enough to help me at school, Robin, you ought to know that my _true_ name is Vladimir Dracula, but, once upon a time, I was known by a name you'll hear a lot about when the rest of the breather-magi decide it's time to make themselves known."

"What name…_Master?_" asked Robin, earning a proud smile from the Count, even as Vlad chuckled in response before he answered Robin.

"Once upon a time, before I was fully-accepted into my Father's clan and anointed as his heir, I was known as Harry James Potter."

**Chapter 3 and, wow, talk about more surprises and curiosities: I'm sure you can fill in the blank, but I'll ask anyway: could there be a reason for Robin's persona non grata status with the **_**very**_** annoying Branagh Clan?**

**Also, how will he react to the so-called truth of the status of his friend-turned-Master as the two of them prepare for magic school?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out**

**Next Chapter: Vlad and Robin finally receive their letters for Hogwarts, which brings out some curiosities in Vlad that leaves very little room for arguments, especially since one of those curiosities concerns his new pet;**

**Please Read and Review**

_**AN: Robin and the Branaghs**_

**So, as I said, I bet you can figure out where I'm going with Robin in this, but let me say this much:**

**In Young Dracula canon, Robin is the ONLY Branagh I can stand!**

**Honestly, any fans of the show will probably agree with me when I say it's like looking at Muggle/Breather versions of the Weasleys and the Dursleys put together; **

**Chloe's so annoying with her 'I know more than you' thing that it's like looking at Hermione crossed with Percy Weasley and then throw in the arrogance of everyone else, while the naïve mind and overly-motherly attitude of Elizabeth is like looking at Molly without magic.**

**And as for her husband and those bratty twin brothers…I wouldn't go so far as to insult everyone's favourite demons, but as for the Branagh twins, they're basically dense, less-fat versions of Dudley with about as much common sense as the Dursleys, and probably Percy Weasley, have between them, not to mention Ron's jealous streak, naivety and weak-willed thoughts turned up to the highest-level possible when it comes to Ingrid paying attention to anyone, but them**

**And the husband/father of the brood is **_**so**_** stupid; it's like Arthur Weasley's naivety about how 'fascinating' Muggles are turned up to an 11, especially when it comes to him voicing his opinions on things and his jealousy aimed at the Count because of how he is towards Elizabeth – who, let's face it, only escaped biting because the writers had to keep it clean – is basically Ron's envy turned up just as high.**

**So, for me, they're better off not really featuring in this story and, at the same time, a reasonable explanation for the way Robin's nothing like them – thank Darkness.**


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